


Sweeter Than Honey

by sherloe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bees, Fluff, M/M, Rimming, Smut, Sussex, do not try at home, early retirement, gratuitous usage of pet names, i can't even believe this, inappropriate usage of honey, retirement fic, they are dirty old men, they are happy and kinda old, they have a dog, they're honestly disgusting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:18:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5547002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherloe/pseuds/sherloe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John closed his eyes, sleep starting cascade over him, when Sherlock's voice rumbled through his chest.</p>
<p>"What was that?" He muttered, sleepily.</p>
<p>"I'd like to raise bees."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweeter Than Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Months ago (like in October), I was like,"Hey everyone! Dropping a fic in 24 hours be ready!" And, um, this is it. I promised dirty old man honey sex, and I have delivered, even if I was a couple months late. Enjoy!

"Ow!"

"Oh, st--"

"Ow, John! Careful!"

John plucked the stinger, gently, from Sherlock's thumb, the pale hand pulling away quickly to hold tightly to his chest.

"I just can't believe they would do that. That hive is by far my most cooperative!" Sherlock's eyebrows were knitted together in frustration, grey eyes looking down at his wound, which was pink and still stinging.

John rolled his eyes. "And I can't believe you are still surprised when you get stung, when you go out without gear on. I know you like to bond with them or whatever it is you do, but," he paused to push a curl towards a silver-streaked temple, and pull Sherlock's injured hand away from his chest to hold in his own,"really, you're going to develop an allergic reaction."

Sherlock huffed. "I wasn't even tending to them! I just wanted to sit and watch them. You know how they fascinate me, they're just..." He trailed off, something he did more and more often lately.

John smiled softly and brought Sherlock's throbbing finger to his mouth to kiss. "I know, love. But suit up next time, yeah? Maybe they were just agitated today. You know, bad day in the hive?"

Sherlock tried to cover his growing smile with an annoyed sigh. "I suppose... But I hate the suit, John! Barriers between the bees and the keeper show distrust."

John stood and kissed Sherlock's forehead. "Well, love, the bees don't seem to keeping their end of the bargain. I'm making lunch."

Sherlock watched his husband intently from the breakfast nook as he moved about their sunny kitchen, cutting vegetables up for a big salad, something light and easy for a warm summer day. Sherlock could tell John's shoulder was bothering him today, but that had been common within the past couple of years. They weren't young anymore, after all.

They weren't old, either, though. They had saved enough from cases and inherited a sizable sum of money after Sherlock's parents passed, and were very happy at Baker Street for a long time, solving cases after case until one day, they were too slow, a shot came too close, and John wound up in the hospital with a nice, thick bullet graze in the side of his thigh.

That had been it for Sherlock. They'd argued about it, of course. John was stubborn, but Sherlock was even more so.

"But we're not old, Sherlock! It was one accident!" John had grouched from his position on the couch, his leg elevated, surrounded by tea cups.

"We are, John! Too old to be doing this! What will happen the next time? What happens when you get stabbed, or shot in the head?"

John sighed. "If you're ready to quit, that's...that's fine. But, Sherlock. You love this. Your work...you can barely function without it. Retiring would...you'd--you'd..."

"I'd what, John?!" Sherlock turned on him, his gaze intense and angry.

"You'd get bored of me! With no work, no cases..."

"Shut up. _Shut up!_ "

"But Sher--"

"Just shut the fuck up!"

John gaped at him. Sherlock rarely cursed when he was angry, especially at him.

"What...?"

"You heard me. John, the Work is nothing. Do you understand me? Nothing. I don't love the work. I don't love the cases. I love _you_." He took a step closer, gesturing wildly with his hands. "You think I can't function without cases? Imagine if I lost you because of one. How well do you think I'd be functioning then? I don't need the Work. Fuck the Work. I need you. For as long as possible."

John's eyes were wide, his muscles tense. Words were lost to him. Sherlock's face was red, and he was breathing hard, and John doubted he even noticed the tears glimmering in his eyes. Finally, he found his voice, raspy and broken. "Come here."

That night, Sherlock sunk down onto John, trembling, as John's hands wandered over his sweat slick skin and their breaths mingled together until they shuddered to the most overwhelming finish they'd had in a while. After, Sherlock laid his head on John's heaving chest, tears trickling onto his heated skin.

"Okay, Sherlock. We'll retire." John's hand slipped into his damp curls.

Sherlock sniffled and tightened his arms around John. "Really?"

John's chuckle came out in a soft huff through his nose. "Really."

Sherlock's pure sigh of relief made tears of his own prick at John's eyes, his heart aching and he tilted Sherlock's head up to kiss him.

"I love you, John."

 “I love you, too, baby."

 John closed his eyes, sleep starting cascade over him, when Sherlock's voice rumbled through his chest.

"What was that?" He muttered, sleepily.

"I'd like to raise bees."

 

****

So for Sherlock's forty-eighth birthday, they'd bought a rundown cottage in Sussex Down, fixed it up, and started their new life.

Sherlock loved his bees. They took up a lot more time than he had anticipated, and he adored every second of it. John worked part-time at the local GP, started a small marijuana garden (for medicinal purposes, of course. In her older age, Mrs. Hudson found it harder to find her herbal soothers, so John sent her some frequently, and if he and Sherlock indulged every once in a while, well, who was it hurting?) and began to convert their blog into novels. If Sherlock thought John romanticized their adventures in a few humble paragraphs, well...he was in for it now.

Oh, and, of course, there was Bart, their beautiful Irish Setter, named after the place where their lives had changed forever. They'd both joked about how cheesy it was, but it fit.

They were happy here.

Sherlock felt a light tap on his forehead, bringing him back to their sunny kitchen and John's gentle smile.

"Hello, my most radiant darling."

Sherlock's cheeks pinked even as he rolled his eyes. "John, that is the most abhorrent one you've come up with yet."

"And yet, you love it," John bent to kiss him as he set his salad in front of him. "In fact," he kissed one cheek, then the other, "you're absolutely," his nose, "mad for it," and back to his lips with a resounding smack.

Sherlock hummed happily, and grasped John's hand across the table, fiddling with the silver band on his ring finger and watching him munch on his salad.

John had glasses now, and a dark chestnut colored beard with streaks of silver blended in. It was nice and thick but cropped close; Sherlock adored it. He thought it made him look distinguished. The laugh lines around his eyes were a little deeper, and framed his deep blue irises and long blonde lashes perfectly. He'd also developed more of a paunch in his belly but had stayed wonderfully solid for the most part.

(Sherlock had softened up a bit too, specifically around his hips. John called them "love handles." Sherlock called them "an abominating consequence of time and gravity" and John was almost obsessed with them, grabbing and squeezing them at every chance he got. Also, biting. But that's for another time.)

His hair was almost completely silver now, but soft and thick as the day Sherlock met him. Fortunately, neither of them seemed to be having hair loss issues in their older age, but as young retirees, maybe they weren't safe to say that quite yet.

John scratched at his beard, and glanced up at Sherlock, catching him staring. "What?" he asked, cracking a goofy smile.

"Nothing. You." Sherlock glanced down and picked at his salad.

"What, you're not tired of looking at my tired old face yet?"

Sherlock beamed at his lap. "Never."

John smirked. "I must have one hell of a personality, then."

"Mm, you haven't figured out by now that I married you for your dashing physicality and nothing else? You're even more oblivious than I thought, John." Sherlock's eyes shone with mirth as he set down his fork and laid his head down on the table to gaze up at John through his eyelashes--which just happened to be one of John's greatest weaknesses.

John pushed his salad away and chuckled, carding a hand through Sherlock's greying hair. "Ah, I always suspected. Silly old sod I am, falling for a vain git."

Sherlock snorted and pushed his head up into John's touch. "I love you, John. All of you. You're incredibly attractive but that means nothing without an incredible man inside."

John's teeth flashed white as a large grin split his face. "I do say, my sweet petal, that you have grown soft in your old age."

"Mn. You too, but mostly around your middle."

John thumped him.

 

***

Later that evening, John sat between Sherlock's legs in a warm bath, filled nearly to the brim in their large claw foot tub and dumped with bath salts and bubbles. Bart lay beside the tub, basking in the soft warmth, never happy to be out of sight of his masters.

Sherlock massaged John's sore shoulder and washed his hair, running his hands over his worn body, gently tracing scars from their time together.

"Feels good," John sighed, relaxing back into Sherlock's chest and running his hands down Sherlock's lean legs.

"Mhm," Sherlock kissed his neck, making John crane his head forward for more. He giggled when John's beard turned white with bubbles, then scooped up a handful and put them on his face to imitate him. John huffed a laugh through his nose and lay back against Sherlock's shoulder, tilting his head up for a kiss, bubbles bursting softly against their faces and tickling their lips.

They chatted aimlessly, and when Sherlock almost fell asleep, they dried off with their fluffy towels, and tumbled naked into bed, wrapping each other in skin and kisses and love before letting sleep take them.

 

***

John woke slowly, eyelashes fluttering against the soft light floating into their room. A warm body was curled up behind him and in front of him was a fresh jar of golden, sticky honey, comb still inside and lazily leaking more nectar from its pores. Sherlock must've tended to the bees early in the morning, his favorite time to go out.

John chuckled warmly. "Is this your idea of breakfast in bed?" His voice came out sleep-rough and drawled.

Sherlock nuzzled at the back of his neck, and rubbed circular motions into John's chest and stomach, his hand moving steadily lower. John smiled. Definitely breakfast in bed, then.

"Patricia's hive produced a particularly sweet batch of honey this morning. The flowers we have planted this season are perfectly cultivated for them. They're delighted."

Sherlock's hand was cupped around his gradually hardening prick now, not stroking, more just playing with the head and foreskin as he talked, his toes wiggling against the skin of John's ankle as he kissed more insistently at John's neck, nipping and sucking as John basked in his touch.

John rolled over to face him and wrapped his arms around him, shoving his hand into his frizzy bed curls and pressing a smiling kiss to his lips. “You do know that it’s absolutely ridiculous that you name your queen bees, don’t you?”

Sherlock nodded and hummed against him in response, then wedged his hand in between them to get at John's cock again, now fully hard, as Sherlock's mouth opened and let John's tongue enter, wrapping around his own sweetly before pulling back to nip at Sherlock's bottom lip, then shoved his tongue messily back into his mouth.

Sherlock's soft whimper met a grunt from John, whose hips had begun to move in time with Sherlock's hand, fucking into the ring his fingers made. Sherlock slid his thumb across the slit, making John gasp, before pulling out of the kiss and reaching for the jar of honey and dipping two fingers inside.

He drew his golden, honey soaked fingers across John's divided lips, smearing them with the nectar, and dipping them inside the cavern of John's mouth so that he could suck him clean. Sherlock whimpered at the sight, his hips beginning to move on their own accord against John's. John lightly grasped Sherlock's wrist and pulled his fingers from his mouth, lazily opening his eyes and smiling through his haze of arousal, moving forward to kiss Sherlock's cheek.

"You were right. This honey is particularly spectacular. Would you like a taste, love?" He pecked kisses across Sherlock's face with his sticky lips, before landing soundly against Sherlock's own soft ones. John got to slipping his tongue back inside Sherlock's mouth so he could suck on John's sweet, honey-tinted tongue.

They were grinding against each other slowly, cocks slipping against each other easily with the flow of pre-ejaculate, the friction not enough to reach orgasm but enough to fuel the warm desire simmering in the base of their spines.

After one particularly desperate thrust, John sat up, his breath labored, rolling Sherlock onto his back and staring down at him. Sherlock's eyes were blown wide and pink tinged his cheeks. There was a smear of honey across his cheek and he was relaxed, practically melted into the mattress.

"God, Sherlock," he whispered reverently, stroking a finger across his lips, "you're just...so much. How did I ever get so lucky?"

Sherlock's hand came up to cover John's own, now moved to cradle his cheek, and leaned into the touch. His eyes slipped closed. "I could ask you the same thing, John."

John smiled. "I love you."

Sherlock stretched his limbs like a cat, arms above his head, before lazily crossing his wrists behind John's neck. A gentle smile curved his lips. "I love you, too. Now ravish me."

John huffed and leaned down to kiss him, shifting to straddle Sherlock's thighs and reach for the jar of honey. Without a second thought, he pulled the comb out of its molten cocoon and held it, sticky and leaking in his hand above Sherlock's pale, heaving chest, golden drops slowly reaching down before clutching to his skin.

"John..." Sherlock's moan was soft and breathy, his hands scrambling to John's thighs and fluttering up his sides and chest.

"I want to taste it on you."

John watched, mesmerized as the honey continued to drizzle onto Sherlock's porcelain skin, and smeared some of it into a nipple with his free hand, making Sherlock gasp and arch his back. He gave the other one the same treatment, rolling them between his honey soaked fingers until they peaked and hardened, shiny and sticky.

"Look at you," he breathed. "My honey covered in honey."

Sherlock tried to roll his eyes at such a line, but he was a bit beyond coherency. John's rough fingers on his sensitive skin was not helping.

Watching Sherlock's reactions almost did John in as he barely resisted the urge to abandon his slow cascade of pleasure and rut wildly against his gorgeous husband until he came so hard he saw stars. But that wasn't the vision for what he wanted to do to the man laying underneath him, panting breath as dulcet as the honey dripping onto his chest.

John shifted his hips forward until their cocks bumped together, just teasing enough to persuade a soft moan to escape his lips.

He held the comb higher, above Sherlock's neck, and let the sticky juice gather in the base of his neck, that delicate little V, licking his lips at the sight of the tiny golden pool that he couldn't wait to dip his tongue into. He held his ground, though. Licking it all up would come later.

He held his fingers under the stream and caught enough to bring to Sherlock's lips, smearing it over them as Sherlock had done to him, before mirroring his earlier movements and dipping his fingers into Sherlock's mouth, his cock twitching at the low, vibrating moan Sherlock let out around his fingers.

John moved his fingers out slowly, before pushing them back into Sherlock's warm mouth, repeating the movement until he was truly fucking those sweet, honey covered lips with his fingers, and Sherlock's moans were enthusiastic and near constant.

"Good?" John's voice was rough with lust, the image and sensation of Sherlock's mouth taking his fingers into moist heat over and over again making his cock ache and his eyes almost feral.

Sherlock nodded around John's fingers, opening his eyes half way to gaze at John through his lashes. God, but those eyes.

John's breath hitched and he finally pulled his fingers from Sherlock's mouth, only to replace them with his tongue. They kissed wildly, with wet, smacking noises filling the room, as John thrust against Sherlock desperately before sitting back up, leaving Sherlock's lips in a pout and his gaze pleading.

John tutted. "Patience, dear." He sounded breathless himself."

Sherlock was prepared to pout harder, until John raised the honey comb from the jar again, which he'd replaced in the midst of their frenzied kissing, and drizzled it down Sherlock's torso in a zig zag, both of their gazes following its trail. John stopped just below Sherlock's belly button, letting the honey drip and run into Sherlock's neatly trimmed pubic hair. He glanced up at Sherlock who was breathing heavily, his eyelids drooping and his face and chest flushed pink.

Keeping their gazes locked, John moved his hand slowly above their cocks, allowing the comb's sweet contents to drip lazily onto their cocks, leaking from John's, down onto Sherlock's smaller, pinker one, thick strings of rich nectar connecting them.

Sherlock rolled his hips and threw his head back. "P-please, John!"

"Please, what, my darling?" John cooed as the honey melted over his sweetheart's pale skin. The golden tint of the honey did make such a lovely contrast against it.

Sherlock’s toes curled against the sheets, John’s hand unrelenting on his sensitive skin. “Just—anything! God, anything.”

John chuckled. “Guess I’d better have mercy on you. You’re not as young as you used to be, you know.”

Sherlock’s only response was a half-hearted scowl, too out of his mind in pleasure to muster up anything more menacing. It drove John wild that after all these years, he could get Sherlock to this point, to make him stop thinking with just a few touches and a few sweet words.

John bent and sucked a mark into Sherlock’s neck, making Sherlock gasp. “Turn over, love, yeah?” He whispered gruffly in his ear, dark curls tickling his nose. He moved back a little, allowing Sherlock to turn onto his stomach (sheets be damned), and settling onto the backs of his thighs. Sherlock shuddered when John drizzled the honey over his shoulder blades, and down his spine.

“John…” Sherlock’s whined plea was muffled by the pillow.

“Told you…I wanna taste it all over,” John bent and licked at the stripe of honey down the center of Sherlock’s back, making him almost jump out of his skin. “Will you let me?”

“Yes, god, yes, please!”

“Good.” John shifted backwards, and Sherlock’s legs spread automatically, allowing John to slip into the vee between them, a most familiar and loved spot, by the way. John was very fond of the view.

He held the honeycomb just above the well-rounded mounds of Sherlock’s bum and squeezed, letting the honey gush out and cascade onto his smooth skin and flow as it pleased. He set the comb aside, satisfied with his work, and finally got his hands on Sherlock’s gorgeous bum, giving it a hearty squeeze, making the man below him groan shamelessly. John’s heart was pounding in his chest. He slipped his thumbs into the cleft, gently parting it until Sherlock’s soft, pink hole was filling his vision, the honey flowing more easily between his cheeks now, coating the skin in a softly tinted gold. John’s breathe left in a rush, and he couldn’t wait anymore, he couldn’t stop himself. He bent down and licked it right up, lingering to suck just above Sherlock’s rim, the mixed taste of Sherlock and the honey intoxicating him and clouding his head.

“John, John, oh my god,” Sherlock was beside himself, pulling at his hair and writhing against the sheets as John kissed and sucked at him.

John sat up and wiped at his mouth, kissing his way up Sherlock’s sticky back to tilt his head and kiss messily into his mouth. “Hold yourself apart for me, darling,” he growled.

Sherlock let his forehead drop back to the pillow as he whimpered loudly and obeyed John, grasping at his sticky backside to pull his cheeks apart. John gripped his hips tightly to hold his wriggling love in place and dove back in, groaning deeply against Sherlock’s core, his tongue beginning to work at the furled skin.

The time for teasing was over, and now it was desperation and fire in his belly. John pointed his tongue and pushed in over and over and over. He could feel Sherlock’s moans vibrating through his entire body as he desperately tried to grind his cock into the sheets and his arse back onto John’s face. John nipped at the rim, making Sherlock yelp, before shoving his tongue back in, thoroughly fucking his now wet and sticky hole. Sherlock was trembling now, on the cusp of orgasm, but not quite being able to fall, and John finally gave in and lifted his hips, lips still attached firmly to his backside, and reached around to Sherlock’s copiously leaking cock, wrapping his hand firmly around it, and tugging.

Sherlock wailed and tensed, and John felt hot wetness coat his hand, and Sherlock circling his hips back against his face, and he moaned as Sherlock finally went limp against the bed, panting loudly, his body heaving with exertion. John pulled back, delirious with the need to come and fisted himself, before Sherlock’s hand on his thigh made him pause.

“In me, John. Please,” his head was turned to the side, his curls wild and frizzy, his cheeks tinted bright red, and John thought he could come from the vision alone.

Sherlock moved his knees up and spread them as far as possible, and John placed the head of his cock against his sticky hole, pushing in only until he breached the tight muscle, and stroked himself to the view of Sherlock pulling his cheeks apart as wide as he could because he wanted John’s come in him. John doubled over and caught himself on the arm that wasn’t busy stroking himself to orgasm, never unable to get used to the fact that Sherlock wanted him _inside_ , craved it, needed it…

John came, his muscles tight, and his mouth hot and open against Sherlock’s heaving back. He groaned and pulled out, his come leaking out of Sherlock’s hole, and god…John wished he could come again.

He fell to the side as Sherlock relaxed against their ruined sheets and pulled him close. He pushed the sweaty curls off of Sherlock’s forehead and kissed him all over his face. Slowly, lovingly. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

Sherlock’s eyes were closed, but a faint, happy smile was spread across his lips, the light smile lines on his face crinkling. He tightened his arms around John’s middle.

“Good, then?” John asked, knowing full well what the answer was. Sherlock just hummed. “Not planning on leaving bed any time soon?”

Sherlock shook his head. “It’s Sunday.”

John laughed out loud. “Actually, darling, it’s Tuesday.”

“Mm, same difference. You’re not leaving this bed,” Sherlock tightened his grip even further to prove his point.

John settled down and closed his eyes.

“The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.” He rubbed his fingers lightly over Sherlock’s soft skin, and sucked in a deep breath, letting himself drift off, knowing that when he woke, it’d be to a warm embrace and “Do you want tea?” and bees and Sherlock and the rest of their lives.

He looked over Sherlock's shoulder at the jar sitting on the bedside table and watched the glow of the morning light filter through the honey as it dripped from the comb.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, please leave kudos and comments if you did!
> 
> If you want, you can follow my tumblr, my url is the same as my username here!


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